


Five Times Lysandra Made Augustin Blush (and one time it was the other way around)

by littleliontree (gentledusk)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: 5 Times, Blushing, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1752671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentledusk/pseuds/littleliontree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lysandra seems to have an uncanny ability to fluster her. Her cheeks are probably going to end up spontaneously combusting, at this rate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Augustin knows that she’s a little clumsy sometimes (judging by that one incident with the roller skates that should never, ever be brought up again, thank you very much). But this is just ridiculous.

She’d been walking down the hall, minding her own business, when she’d spotted Lysandra and had started running up to her. Then, she’d tripped on _something_ (there had to have been something, right?) on the floor, and had gone crashing right into Lysandra, somehow managing to knock all six feet four inches and two hundred twenty pounds of her to the ground.

Oh, how embarrassing!

“I’m so sorry!” she gasps out, pushing herself upwards and removing her face from where it had landed between Lysandra’s (very nice) breasts. “I didn’t mean to, I just, I was just very happy to see you and then I must have tripped over something and—”

“Augustin,” Lysandra interrupts, still sounding a bit winded but smirking nonetheless, “if you wanted me in this position, you could have just asked. Although I honestly would have preferred it not to be on the floor.”

“…Position? What do you…oh! No! No!” she says, waving her hands about frantically. She can feel her cheeks growing warmer and silently curses them for their betrayal. “That’s not what I meant at all! I didn’t mean to fall on you! Really, I didn’t! I really did trip!”

Lysandra is laughing at her now, blue eyes sparkling with amusement at Augustin’s flustered state. She thinks she would be more indignant if she weren’t so busy being captivated by that laugh.

“May I get up now, Augustin?” Lysandra asks eventually, voice still heavy with mirth.

Augustin blushes even deeper when she realizes that she is still sitting on Lysandra, and in a rather compromising position at that. “O-Of course! Of course you can!” she stammers, pushing herself off of Lysandra and onto her feet. Instinctively, she offers her friend a hand, never mind that Lysandra probably doesn’t need the help, what with her being so much bigger and taller and oh-so-strong, she could probably sweep Augustin right off her feet if she wanted to…

To her surprise, Lysandra accepts the offered hand, even though she doesn’t really seem to need help getting to her feet (which is good, really, because Augustin is a stick next to Lysandra with the muscles to match).

Just when she thinks her blush has died down, Lysandra makes it return with a vengeance by stepping in close to rearrange Augustin’s rumpled clothing, fiddling with everything until it apparently meets her exacting standards.

“If we’re going to be doing that again, let’s at least do it somewhere more comfortable, yes?” Lysandra says with a wink as she starts to walk away.

“C-Comfortable? And what do you mean, ‘next time’?” Augustin cries after her, but Lysandra just laughs and continues walking until she’s walked out the door and Augustin is left with the memory of Lysandra’s body underneath her and a bright red blush on her cheeks.


	2. Two

It’s quite a warm day to be out on a walk, so Augustin decides that it is absolutely necessary that they stop for ice cream somewhere along the way to cool off.

Except, the ‘cooling off’ bit hasn’t been going very well, not with her being unable to resist staring as Lysandra licks at her small vanilla ice cream cone. Even the cherry-flavoured slushie she’s drinking can’t seem to dispel the rising heat in her cheeks.

She freezes (no pun intended) when Lysandra looks up, directly at her, and oh, she probably _knows_ that Augustin has the biggest, most ridiculous crush on her, probably knows that she’s been staring because she just can’t help herself, can’t help but imagine _other_ things that Lysandra could do with that tongue…

Augustin expects Lysandra to make a comment of some sort, something that will set her cheeks even more aflame than they already are, but Lysandra merely smiles and arches a brow, swirling her tongue suggestively and causing Augustin to nearly choke on her drink.

She blames her burning cheeks on the heat, of course, when Lysandra asks, despite the fact that she is now complaining of brain freeze as a result of gulping down her slushie too quickly in a futile attempt to get her cheeks to cool down. Lysandra just smiles and asks if she’d like to go for ice cream again sometime, and possibly eat out as well, and Augustin nearly chokes once again.

She says yes, of course, but if she ends up spontaneously combusting or dying of heatstroke it’ll be all Lysandra’s fault.


	3. Three

It’s always a little embarrassing going clothes-shopping with Lysandra. It’s not that Augustin doesn’t _like_ getting the chance to go out shopping with her friend, of course, it’s just…Lysandra is just so much more fashionable than she is. She always looks amazing no matter what she chooses to wear, whether it’s a gorgeous, sweeping ball gown or a perfectly fitted suit. And it’s not that Augustin doesn’t know how to dress herself, or anything—she kind of has to know how to make herself look good, in a world where she’s often judged for her looks more than her brains. And she _knows_ that Lysandra is a lot more well-off than her, but really, that doesn’t mean she has to go buying Augustin so many clothes all the time!

“You don’t have to get me all these outfits, Lysandra,” Augustin protests for the umpteenth time. “They’re very nice, of course, but I can pay for myself! Maybe with clothes that are a bit more in my price range, of course, but—”

“But I want to,” Lysandra cuts in smoothly, pushing yet another outfit into Augustin’s arms to be tried on. “I do so love dressing you up, you know. The monetary cost is nothing compared to the delight I get from seeing you in one of the outfits I’d picked out especially for you.”

“I’m not your charity case,” Augustin grumbles as she retreats back into the change room, taking off the last outfit she’d been made to try on. Red, of course, like most of the clothes she’d been given, although there are also clothes in royal blue and emerald green and sunshine yellow. The cocktail dress that she’s now meant to try on is a rich wine red, and she slips it on with a sigh before opening the door to face Lysandra’s judgement once again.

“I don’t know if red is really my colour,” she says as Lysandra eyes her appraisingly.

“Nonsense,” says Lysandra, turning her this way and that. “I think you look delightful in red. It’s simply a matter of finding the right outfits for you to wear. Fortunately, you have me at your disposal.”

“Why are you doing this?” Augustin asks, looking down at her hands. “Not just now, I mean—you do this practically every time we go out shopping for clothes together. Just…why? And why me?”

Lysandra is silent for a few long moments. Augustin, of course, takes this as a bad sign and immediately panics.

“D-Don’t get the wrong idea! I’m not saying that I’m not grateful or anything, of course I’m grateful! But…you don’t have to spend your money on me, you know? Especially not so much of it…”

She risks a peek upwards at Lysandra’s face—impassive, as usual—and is about to continue her apologetic ramble when Lysandra leans in and brushes a stray lock of hair out of her face, tucking it carefully behind her ear. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet in the mirror she can still see her cheeks flushing a faint pink.

“A beautiful woman deserves beautiful things,” Lysandra says in a completely serious voice.

Normally, Augustin would laugh at the cheesiness of such a line, but when it’s Lysandra saying it to her so earnestly she can’t help but blush even more at the words. Beautiful? Lysandra thinks she’s beautiful?

“But what about you?” she can’t help but blurt out. Because Lysandra is a very, very beautiful woman, breathtaking even, definitely more beautiful than Augustin…with long, flowing hair, and legs that go on for miles…

“I already have something of incomparable beauty,” Lysandra murmurs, almost to herself. “Though I am unaware of what I have done to deserve it.”

“And what…what is it?” she asks, a little breathless from the intensity of Lysandra’s stare, but Lysandra simply smiles, a little ruefully, and shakes her head. “Oh…well, whatever it is, I’m sure you definitely deserve it! You deserve beautiful things, Lysandra!”

“You may leave the rest of the outfits if you wish,” says Lysandra as if the whole ‘beautiful’ exchange had never happened, “but at least allow me to get you this dress. You look simply stunning in it, and I would love to see you wearing it again.”

“You…really don’t have to…” Augustin protests weakly, cheeks turning pink once more at the compliment.

“I insist. It would be my pleasure,” says Lysandra, and Augustin has known her for long enough to realize when arguing with her would be an exercise in futility.

“Oh, all _right_ ,” she says with a dramatic sigh, going back into the change room to hide her blushing cheeks and to escape the sight of Lysandra’s (unfairly attractive) self-satisfied grin.

Perhaps she’ll wear the dress on their dinner not-a-date later this week, just to see the look on Lysandra’ face…


	4. Four

There are many more outfits after that day, despite Augustin’s half-hearted protests, and many more not-dates as well (though those are completely free of protests). She wears some of these outfits on their not-dates as well, and the pleased little smile she gets from Lysandra in return is well worth it. The sincere compliments she receives afterwards are just the icing on the cake.

Then, one evening, she realizes that this particular not-date might not be a not-date at all…

“I thought it would be nice to eat in for a change,” says Lysandra, gesturing at the delicious-looking meal she’s set out on the table. “You like?”

“L-Looks good…” Augustin stammers, busy taking in the lit candles and the vase full of roses on the table as well. “Did you…did you do all of this for _me_?”

“But of course,” says Lysandra, going as far as to pull out a chair for her. “You deserve the very best I have to offer, after all.”

“O-Offer?” she repeats, sinking helplessly into the chair. The food _does_ smell really good…

“You look gorgeous tonight, Augustin,” Lysandra says, sitting down across from her. “Not that you don’t always look wonderful, of course, but you look particularly wonderful in that dress.”

“Th-Thank you!” Augustin squeaks, smoothing down the skirt of her dress self-consciously. Her cheeks are probably the colour of Lysandra’s hair right now. “You look really good as well!”

Really, _really_ good, in her own dress of midnight blue, with silver sparkles on it like stars in the night sky…she doesn’t get to see Lysandra in dresses very often, why is she so unfairly attractive in them? Not that she isn’t just as unfairly attractive in a sharp, perfectly tailored suit as well, mmm…

“Augustin. Augustin?”

“Y-Yes?” Oh, she’s probably been staring shamelessly for a good few minutes now, what must Lysandra think…

“Thank you,” flashing a small, knowing grin at her, and Augustin swears she feels her cheeks flush and her heart skip a beat and all that other cheesy, ridiculous nonsense.

The dinner is delicious, of course—Lysandra is truly a top-notch chef, and it looks like she’s really given it her all tonight. Somehow, though, Augustin finds herself quite unable to pay much attention to the food, instead finding her focus drawn to the beautiful woman sitting in front of her, who’s gone to the trouble of doing all this for _her_ …

“Is this a date?” she blurts out in the middle of dessert (strawberry cheesecake, her favourite, how did Lysandra know?).

Lysandra, at first, looks taken aback by the question, then suddenly bursts out laughing. Augustin has just enough time to feel hurt and wish she could sink into the floor before Lysandra begins to speak.

“Augustin,” Lysandra says, still shaking with laughter, “I’ve been wondering how long it would take you to notice that I’ve been considering many of our little outings together ‘dates’ for quite a while now.”

“So this is…this is a…”

“A date, yes. Come now, Augustin, a candlelit dinner complete with roses and everything? Of course this is a date. Is it…do you find that agreeable?” Lysandra asks, smile faltering just the tiniest bit, looking uncertain for quite possibly the first time since Augustin has met her.

“Do I get to kiss you, then?” Augustin blurts out as well, clapping her hands over her mouth in mortification when she realizes what she’s said.

Lysandra’s smile turns into something sharp and predatory at her words, and Augustin squeaks as Lysandra leans across the table and gently removes her hands from over her mouth. Lysandra then picks up Augustin’s forgotten fork and lifts a bite of cheesecake to Augustin’s mouth.

“Finish your dessert, and you can kiss me all you like,” Lysandra says in a voice like velvet.

Augustin’s cheeks flush red as she opens her mouth to accept the offered piece of cheesecake. They continue like this, with Lysandra feeding her bites of the delicious cake until it’s finally done. Then, after the dishes are cleaned up, Lysandra takes her by the hand and pulls her into the rose-petal adorned living room with an inviting grin.

Augustin definitely didn’t expect to end off today’s actually-a-date in Lysandra’s lap on Lysandra’s couch with rose petals scattered around them, practically melting from Lysandra’s passion and the heat of Lysandra’s mouth and all these sweet, sweet kisses…but she definitely wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
